Summer Has A Scent
by mikmik121
Summary: War has left the land scarred since the beginning of time. Gunpowder, fire, toxic gasses and blood at once point or another mixed it with some of the others mentioned above. How the storms of the land was helping create mud which men crawled around and died in. That the ocean was filled with the mix of gunfire and fire.


Summer has a scent. Not many can smell it, most of which who can't look upon those who can with a funny glance. But it's true. The hot, muggy air of summer can carry along all it's wonderful scents along with it, riding gently along.

How could anyone ignore the freshly cut grass, the smells released from the blades being cut? Or the fishy, salty smells of the ocean? Sweat on one's brow and the chlorine in the pool. The moisture in the air and the rain during storms.

It wasn't always like that in this world. War has left the land scarred since the beginning of time. Gunpowder, fire, toxic gasses and blood at once point or another mixed it with some of the others mentioned above. How the storms of the land was helping create mud which men crawled around and died in. That the ocean was filled with the mix of gunfire and fire.

That just for a moment, immortality seemed to be non-existent. How one bullet flying from nowhere sounded louder. And in a second how someone stood before the other to block them, warm blood hitting their face as the metal tore through the skin. Then collapsed.

On his knees, weak and shrunk to the size of a child by a simple gunshot. Cradling his head, the amber color of his hair greasy from the ignorance of hygiene and the scarlet colored liquid spilling from his wound onto his pale skin. The golden eyes he showed so proudly were half-lidded open and the magical smile of his that the other had come to enjoy was shakily snaking it's way back up. A cough sent blood trickling from his mouth to his chin slowly and yet, he could laugh broken.

His feminine hands reached up slowly to the other man's defined face, sliding to his cheeks and rubbing little circles as if he could not do much more. "I don't want to see your eyes look so sad...i-it looks worse...then w-when you're angry..."

A white flag lay at the other's side, stains of red upon it. Spattered like a work of art. "Don't talk..." The deeper voice responded with a tinge of pain weaved within it. Something so unlikely. "I'll get you back...you should be okay..."

"I don't like this anymore..." The other one whispered, the familiar sight of glassy eyes and arising tears coming to fruition. "I...I want to go home...a-and sleep in my bed...make p-pasta in my own kitchen..."

"You will..." The other responded, ignoring the short and few strands of blond hair falling into his face and tampering with his eyesight slightly. His pinkie finger was held out, hand cut up and dirtied. The man intertwined both of their's together and held the fading man's hand up. "I promise you will...you remember this...? Japan told us...pinkie promise..."

"Y...Yeah..." His eyes slid shut and he became unresponsive to anything around him. The gunfire, the men's shouting ferociously. Surrender. He wanted nothing more for the day but to surrender.

Calmly, he grabbed the stained flag beside him and stuck it into the mucky ground, holding it out in front of him to everyone's shock. No, surrender was not a normal thing for him to do. There was just too much at stake this time. So much more than before.

The Allied soldiers whooped and hollered. The Axis called back for retreat. A moment passed, the German man looking at the paled and innocent face of his own ally in his arms. Getting up with buckling knees provided a challenge, the added deadweight in his arms weighing his body back down once more. Yet, he stood up tall and walked away while the other's body hung limp in his arms.

* * *

He couldn't move when his eyes opened next. The pain that coursed through him had nearly paralyzed him. As if he had been hit by a train or a bomb. Directly.

A tent, musty and muggy. Yet the world so calm on the outside with quiet voices and singing birds. There was laughter and merriment that conflicted with his own world of agony and pain that was washed over him.

"How has he been doing?" Familiar voices outside mixed in with such a calmed feeling. "Still unconscious...?"

"I hope not for much longer..." The normally dignified voice seemed near the breaking point. The cooled and uniform sound nearly gone and sounding extremely shaken. "He's an _idiot_ for even attempting to jump in the way. It should've been _me_ that got hit."

"It's not your fault." A simplistic voice answered back politely and calm. "He knew that you were injured yourself...I don't think he could've bared seeing you get shot either-"

"But I can't bare that he's laying there out cold because of _me_!" Anger was in his voice but fear and sadness held a note within it as well. "What if he _doesn't wake up_!? His brother is fine! _He'd_ become the country! He could _die_ for all we know...!"

He swallowed hard, listening to the assumption of death. Now able to lift the blankets over his body for a few seconds to see bandages wrapped around his pelvis with light traces of blood staining over the right side. A pinkish color on top of white.

"He'll be fine..." The other tried to reassure but there was doubt in his words. "I am going to go see if anyone needs help in the other tents...watch over him and call someone if he awakens...he's sure to be hungry..."

The tent opened and a light breeze sauntered in with a nice feel to it. The man let his head roll to the side of the entrance, his eyes locking with a certain pair of blue ones. "L...Luddy...I don't want...t...to die...I'm scared..."

The blond came over slowly, sitting on the side of the bed and carefully bringing the man into his arms much like before but much safer than during those few hours. "You're going to be fine...don't you scare me like that again or else no pasta for a year..."

"B-But..." His own voice held such a blue tone to it. "I-I was just...t-trying to keep you safe...b-because you're always...watching over me...a-and I'm...I'm really hungry right now..."

"Alright..." He said softly into his hair. "Alright..."

The man slowly got up to leave, making sure he was not hurting the other while laying him back down on the cot. "Stay here for a few minutes...I'll get you whatever you want..."

"I j-just wanna go home..." The other said, tears spilling over from invisible wounds inside. "S-Sleep in...a-and make something r-really delicious...I hate this war...!"

Ludwig knelt beside the cot, his strong arms wrapped around his body to hopefully help keep the sadness from affecting him severely. "We're going to leave, okay...? Just until you get better...I'll make sure that you're being taken care of..."

"Are you hurt...?" The other said with a mixture of tears in his voice. "I-I tried to...keep you from..."

"I'll be okay..." He breathed, brushing the soft, auburn hair from his face to look into his honey-colored eyes. "Let me get you something to eat...then you need to rest again..."

"No training...?"

"None..." He held the man's face to his shoulder and pressed a cheek against his head. "Don't worry much about waking up and running around...alright. We both want you getting better..."

"Are you proud of me...?" His alto voice came out in a muffled mutter. His face pulled away and child-like eyes looked upon the other. "A-Are you proud that I did something...?"

"Yes..." The German stated simply, pressing his lips against his hairline. "I'm very proud of you for what you did..."

* * *

Italy rolled over in bed, still waking up from his elongated sleep to see his blond partner still resting beside him. The windows were opened a crack, a cool breeze of the morning coming through. Someone was mowing the lawn for the fresh scent of chopped grass came wafting in as well.

Sitting up, he examined the stronger man's face with a smile. Sure, when he first started forcing his way into the other's bedroom at night his face was much the same. Tense, a crease in his brows and even a loaded pistol under a pillow.

Slowly as he became more comfortable with the softer man beside him, the crease vanished until a face of pure relaxation held its place. He only looked more handsome with the usually slicked-back blond hair falling into his face and swaying in the summer breeze.

Unable to resist, his hand pressed to his defined facial features to feel all the peace radiating off of him in sleep. He laughed softly, a light smile on his face as he pulled a hand away and starting to make him stir. "Hey, Luddy...it's morning."

The man's eyes clamped tightly for a moment as the Italian laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about waking up so quickly. We can lay in bed for as long as we want..."

"Are you alright...?" He asked, his ice-blue eyes opening to look towards Italy with a concerned look on his face. "You seem a bit shaken right now..."

He hugged the man, snuggling closer to him and smiling. "I'm fine because I know that you'll protect me from anything that'll come...I just wanted to hug you."

"Honestly, it's too early for you normal tendencies...old habits die hard I guess..." Still, he didn't push the man off nor showed any hatred of any sort towards the action. "It's alright now..."

"I know..."

The two looked outside, hearing a bird nearby the window. "You know Luddy...I like summer a lot...it's so peaceful and happy..."

"I guess..."

"It feels like summer's come again."

"Yeah..."


End file.
